


Stop Talking, Gabriel

by KittyInATopHat



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Gabriel, Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Cock Rings, Dubious Consent, F/M, King's Row (Overwatch), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Uprising - Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:12:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyInATopHat/pseuds/KittyInATopHat
Summary: Tensions between Commander Reyes, Strike Commander Morrison, and Captain Amari grow worse after the attack on King's Row. Ana and Jack attempt to ease the situation, but Gabe is not so easily swayed.





	Stop Talking, Gabriel

**Author's Note:**

> AKA "I'm thirsty for Ana wearing a strap-on". The world needs more Bottom!Gabe so you're welcome I guess. 
> 
> I wrote this really quick, so if I need to fix anything let me know! Enjoy <3

“You think you can talk to us like that?”, Ana sneers, stomping into Gabriel’s office. It’s half past midnight after a 17 hour day, cleaning up loose ends of the situation that had unfolded at King’s Row. Gabe is just starting to wind down, looking over boring, endless paperwork to ease his troubled and anxiety filled mind into sleep. It hasn’t been working.

“What?”, he asks, not immediately connecting what she’s saying.

“The mission”, she spits. “Null Sector”. Oh... _that_. The dispute in the control room, when they had discovered that Jesse McCree had been sent on his orders to survey the situation. Gabriel’s expression immediately hardens. He stands, hunched over his desk, his palms supporting him on either side. He stares directly into her dark pupils, blown with anger.

“You know exactly why I did what I did”, he huffs, a wave of invigorated annoyance washing over him.

“That was unacceptable, Gabriel”, she says, not breaking eye contact. “How dare you argue with your superior in the midst of a crisis situation”. He rolls his eyes at her.

“Jack is a fool, it should be me”, Gabe barks. “Blackwatch is the only reason we knew Null Sector was planning an attack in the first place!”.

“Gabriel”, she bites. “This kind of behavior is exactly the reason why he was chosen for Strike Commander instead of you”. Silence lingers momentarily, her words leave a sinking feeling in his gut. Her gaze is still dark, unrelenting. Gabe stands up straight, inhaling deeply, trying to prevent his emotions from getting the better of him. Over Ana’s head, Gabe sees his office door open, a figure standing in the doorway.

“Heard you’re angry with me”, came the raspy voice of Jack Morrison. He steps into the light of Gabe’s office, a beige knapsack bag slung over his shoulder and closes the door behind him. Jack’s uniform is disheveled, some pins are askew and his collar is loose. His blonde stubble was beginning to sprout across his face and his lively blue eyes sported dark bags. His sleeves are rolled up, the blonde hair on his arms slightly visible in the dim light.

“Don’t start Morrison”, Gabe sneers, swinging out from behind his desk, heading to the door. “I’m not in the mood”. As he passes the blonde, Jack holds out his hand, catching his shoulder as he tries to walk by.

“That’s sir to you”, he gruffs. His hand sits on his shoulder briefly, before it trails down Gabe’s stomach to linger on his belt buckle. “We need to talk”. He loops his finger through one of his belt loops and pulls him forward. Their noses are almost touching, Gabe slightly lingering above Jack. He can feel Jack’s hot breath against his lips and the heat goes straight into his groin. Fuck, he’s doing this on purpose. Jack knows better than to fight with stubborn and hot headed Gabriel Reyes while he was angry. It would do nothing but drive them into screaming matches. So Jack had learned to redirect Gabe’s anger, by teasing the ever living hell out of him until Gabe was begging Jack to fuck him.

“Please?”, he says, eying him hungrily with exhausted, bloodshot eyes and a primal look that makes Gabe shiver. Usually afterwards, in post orgasmic bliss, they would be able to talk out their issues. Except lately, Gabe hadn’t felt like talking and had been avoiding them both outside of work. It had been several months since Jack received his promotion to Strike Commander and the tension between was just getting worse. Several weeks had passed since he’s fucked either of them and he was beginning to feel the effects: his hands and his toys were quickly becoming lackluster, he was tense and irritable. Having Jack this close made his head spin.

“Gabriel”, Jack coos, his hands crawling up the inside of his thigh. “Tell me what’s going on”. Without hesitating, Gabe grabs the collar of Jack’s uniform and crushes his lips against his, trying to regain dominance over the situation. After a moment, Jack shoves him back, separating them. He walks towards Gabe.

“Did I say you could touch me?”, he says, stern, backing Gabe against his desk. His voice makes Gabe’s knees go weak.

“N-no”, he mumbles.

“No what?”, Jack grunts.

“No, sir”, Gabe responds. .

“Good. Don’t let it happen again”, he says, practically undressing Gabe under his gaze. “Turn around. Hands on your desk”. Gabriel complies, reluctantly. Jack is so alluring in his Strike Commander uniform, his air of authority lingering between them. He can hear Jack circling him, his boots thud against the wooden floor of his office. Gabe hears rustling and then a pair of small, tan hands loop around to undo his belt buckle.

“Ana--”, Gabe whimpers, but he’s cut off by Jack’s finger, pressing against his lips as he takes a seat in Gabe’s office chair. Ana works his belt open and then strips him of his uniform pants and spandex underwear. His cock, half hard already, hangs between his legs, the air cool across his bare ass. Jack stares directly up into Gabe’s eyes. It’s overwhelming, Gabe feels so vulnerable that he can only manage to look down at the paperwork strewn about his desk, avoiding the eyes of his comrade. Jack uses his finger to lift Gabe’s chin and forces them to make eye contact.

“If you want to stop, speak up”, he says, earnest in his voice. “Otherwise, stop talking”. Gabriel glares and jerks his head away, but doesn’t indicate that he wants him to stop. Jack knows he can’t resist this, heated, angry passion, being cornered in his office by the both of them. Jack clears his throat and rests his hands on top of Gabe’s desk.

“Why did you send Blackwatch into King’s Row, Gabe?”, he asks quietly. Gabe is silent, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly, a flat, wooden object makes contact with the flesh of his ass and he yelps. _Where the fuck did she get that?_

“He asked you a question, Gabriel”, Ana says. _The bag_ , he realizes, through the sting. _It must have been in the bag that Jack brought_. He scowls, weary about what else may lie in the worn canvas.

“I…I don’t know”, he says.

“We both know that’s not true”, the smug grin in his voice just makes Gabe angrier and hornier. Gabe is silent, which he knows will only make this worse, but he’s too stubborn to let some light spanking phase him. Ana strikes him again, harder this time, but Gabe is prepared for it, tensing his thighs and his glutes.

“Why did you send McCree into King’s Row after receiving direct orders not to intervene?”, Jack asks again, his tone unphased. Gabe is silent and Ana strikes him a third time, this time on the other cheek. Gabe looks up and locks eyes with Jack.

“If you cooperate I’ll make it worth your while”, Jack says, eying him up bent over, with his pants around his ankles. He leans back in Gabe’s creaky office chair, crossing his foot over his knee. This time Ana strikes both cheeks twice with the wooden paddle. She runs her hands up and down the insides of his thighs, smoothing them across the harsh red marks no doubt beginning to spread across his behind. Roughly, she slaps the open palm of her hand against his left cheek and he grunts. His ass was starting to burn.

“Do you really think this is how you’ll get me going?”, Gabe snipes, glaring at Jack. “Some softcore paddle bullshit?”. Gabe swears he sees a flash of anger course through him before he composes himself again. Ana hits him again, his right cheek this time, her blows faster. _Thwack, thwack, thwack_. Then she switches, smacking him five times on the other side. Jack leans forward in the chair, holding up his hand to Ana. The spanking ceases.

“Maybe you’re right”, he says softly and his tone sends a shiver down Gabe’s spine. He grabs him roughly and shoves him down against the desk, papers scattering everywhere. “Maybe soft isn’t how we should do this”. Ana reaches between his legs and begins stroking his dick, peeling his foreskin back as she does. Gabe whines, trying to free himself from Jack’s grip to thrust into Ana’s hand, but Jack keeps him firmly planted to the desk. The palm of Jack’s hand is still resting on his back when Gabe feels Ana beginning to stretch something wet around his cock.

“What is that?” Gabe asks, but they both remain silent. When Ana reaches his hilt she lets go, the stretchy band tight around the base of his shaft. Then she reaches over him to hand something to Jack. “What are you doing?”.

“So many questions”, Jack hums and then flips a switch on the remote. There’s a pause and then Gabe’s legs buckle as the band begins vibrating. He grips the desk and moans, his cock becoming harder as the vibrations ripple through him.

“F-fuck Ana, Jack”, he chokes.

“Gabriel”, Jack’s voice chimes and Gabe looks up at him, helplessly. “Why were your men in King’s Row?”. His legs are shaking and his cock is beginning to leak, but he’s holding himself together pretty well. The vibrating, though arousing, is manageable.

“If you’re so confident you can break me, then you can figure it out yourself”, he gasps, smirking. Jack glances at the remote in his hands and then presses a button. The cock ring tightens around him, vibrating faster and he lets a moan slip from his lips.

“That’s more like it”, he grunts and then he feels Ana’s thumb press against his hole. She spreads something cool and wet, probably lube around the outside, and then slides a slick, slender finger inside of him. He gasps and feels his eyes roll into the back if his head. They were really pushing it now.

“Talk to us Gabriel”, Ana says, commanding but soft. Gabe doesn’t budge.

“You and boy scout will have to do better”. Another dark glance from Jack. He hates that nickname. Another click of the remote and the ring vibrates even faster, the intensity beginning to wear on him. Ana adds a second finger and Gabe groans as he tries to adjust, his muscles tensing as his cock becomes more engorged with blood.

“You’re torturing yourself”, Jack sighs, getting up from the chair and walking behind him.

“Y-you like it”, he smirks, his voice beginning to falter, becoming lost in the sensations. When Ana adds a third finger, his vision blurs. He had kept himself fairly stretched in their time apart but he doubted that he could keep up if Ana was going to do this to him. She scissors him gently, his whole body shaking under her fingers. He knows this is a fleeting battle, they know exactly how to pick him apart, but he wants them to work for it.

Without warning, Ana withdraws her fingers and then his hands are subdued behind his back. He can feel the bite of plastic as a zip tie is secured around his wrists, binding them together.

“So this is how we’re going to do this”, Gabe mutters as Jack pushes him to the floor. Lying on his back, he stares at his cock. Despite being barely touched, he’s rock hard, the entire shaft a bright red, a thick drop of precum sliding from his slit, tangling into his dark curls.

“You didn’t really give me a choice”, he says. Gabe can hear Ana fumbling with a harness, the clinking of buckles over his panting. Jack disappears from eyesight, retrieving something from behind his desk. When he returns, he places the cushion from Gabe’s chair under his sacrum, propping his hips up.

“Such a gentlemen”, he growls.

“Gabriel”, Ana says, cutting him off as she steps back into the light. She’s stripped of her uniform coat, boots and combat pants, wearing only her uniform top and spandex shorts. Attached to her waist and voluptuous thighs is a black harness with a thick black dildo between her legs. The sex toy is wrapped in a condom, glistening with lube. She stands above him, between his legs, stroking herself lazily, spreading the coating from base to tip. Ana steps forward angling the dildo against Reaper’s entrance. “Stop talking”. Gripping his hips, she presses into him. He gasps. She draws herself out of him, and then presses back in, hoisting his right leg up so she can go deeper.

“What did you do?”, she says, her voice even.

“N-n-none of your-r... _ahhh-- c-_ concern”, he moans, refusing to accept his defeat, refusing to let them break him.

“But it is, Gabriel. It is. Because Overwatch is already on thin ice and I’m gonna need a good fucking excuse to get Director Petras off my ass”, Jack snaps, losing his patience, his nostrils flared. Gabe’s gaze locks on Jack’s, his eyes dark. “So tell me the truth or we’ll fuck it out of you”. Without breaking eye contact, he presses down on the remote and holds the button. The vibrations begin stretching from his cock through his body, he’s squirming under Ana as she continues fucking him. He’s crying out in pleasure, his moans filling the room.

“Why was Blackwatch at King’s Row, Gabriel?”.

“Oh fuck, oh _f-fuck_ , Ana, J-jack”, nonsense spilling from Gabe’s mouth.

“Answer him”, Ana sneers, her thrusts slowing. When she pulls herself out of him, Gabe is immediately responsive. Desperately, he tries to push himself back onto her, but she holds his hips, her arm muscles taut as she steadies him.

“A-Ana”, he begs. Jack reaches over him and smoothes his fingertips over his swollen, throbbing member. Lightning shoots from his touch, down Reaper’s spine, his cock overwhelmed by the stimulus. Gabe throws his head back, moaning. “F-fuck, fine, _fine_ ”.

“We--we...I... _fuck_...I was sick of j-just sitting there”, he stutters, his thoughts jumbled with Ana still inside of him. “I-I wanted Jesse to at least scope out the scene. It was w-worse than we thought toooooo--ah!”. Ana shifts inside of him, drawing herself out some more.

“Keep going”, Jack says, clicking off the vibrator. Gabe takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

“The Prime Minister? H-he doesn’t know shit”, Gabe chuckles as best he can. “He’s never b-been in a war. Not like us. N-not like the people tr-trapped in King’s Row, by N-null Sector. He can af-ford to wait, to bide his time, but... _nuh_ , J-jack you know they can’t”. Ana and Jack exchange nervous looks. They’re silent, staring down at Gabe quivering between them. Jack gets on his knees in front of Gabe. He reaches for his cock and gently removes the ring from the base. Gabe hisses as he pulls it off, the blood rushing back into his cock with a jolt. He shutters. Jack cups his face in the palm of his hand.

“Thank you for being honest”, Jack says softly, leaning down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. Then, he leans forward and takes the tip of Gabe’s throbbing cock in his mouth and Ana returns to her relentless pace. Gabe arches his back into them, moaning and quivering.

Ana adjusts her position, thrusting slightly up and brushes over his bundle of nerves, Gabe crying out, overwhelmed, his vision blurring. She pulls herself fully out and, without pause, hits it again as Jack takes his full length into his mouth. Their friction sends him over the edge and Gabe cums, violently, his hips bucking into Jack’s face. Jack gags around his cock, swallowing his milky seed down.

Ana pulls out of him and steps back, removing the pillow so that Jack can get under him to cut his zip ties. When his hands are released he glances at his wrists, glaring, red imprints staring back at him. He shivers as he runs his fingers over them. Jack reaches to help him with his clothes, but Gabe turns away from him. Jack picks up on his coldness.

“Gabe?”, he asks. Gabe looks at him from the corner of his eye. Without a word he stands, steadying himself against his desk. Shakily, he pulls up his spandex and pants. He grabs his beanie off the floor, shoves it over his head and storms out of his office.

“Gabe!”, Jack cries after him, muffled as the door shuts. He walks down the hall, his arms tight around himself like a shield.

Gabe will always feel a sting of resentment and jealousy, the wall between himself and Jack Morrison. It’s not fair to blame Jack, Gabe knows this, but it’s also not fair to him, day in and day out watching him and Ana play games with the organization he helped build from the ground up. It should be _him_ , contemplating whether or not Overwatch intervenes at Null Sector.

As he rounds the corner to the elevators, he can still hear Jack calling out for him. He gets inside and punches the button for the ground floor. As the door closes, he realizes that he’s choking back tears, trying not to let the sobs get the better of him. He closes his eyes, steadying his breath.

If he couldn’t be Overwatch’s Strike Commander, then neither could anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, have a wonderful day! <3


End file.
